


not quite what you pictured, but alright

by mind_boggling



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, part 3 is slightly inspired by defenders 101
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 13:57:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12483196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_boggling/pseuds/mind_boggling
Summary: Ignoring him, "You're looking better." She says, an edge of hope in her voice."Can't say the same for you, ma'am." He says, looking at her from the corner of his eye. She stares at him blankly, his eyes drifting to the stitches above her eyebrow. Her hand flies there instantly as she can feel his eyes on her."What can I say? A typical day in Hell's kitchen." Karen responds.





	not quite what you pictured, but alright

**Author's Note:**

> the one where frank saves karen twice, only for her to save him the third

"You look like shit."

It's the first thing she says to him.

He's not at all surprised, the bruises are painted into his rough and grazed skin. The colours vary, reds, to blues, to purples and greens and yellows. A rainbow of pain across his whole body.

"Appreciated." He says back, grunting a little as he tries to move.

"It's nothing to joke about." She says, softness distant in her voice. Anger. Hard and tough and brutal anger. "And nor did I intend for it to be."

He can feel his eyes closing, succumbing to the pain that calls his name, begs him to slip back into the void of darkness where his demons wait to pick at whatever is left of him. It had almost become routine. They were always there. Always. "Ma'am."

"Don't." 

Karen is angry as she sits on the fire escape of her apartment, that's an understatement. But she is fully aware of what he does. What he gets up to from day to day, rather, who he comes across that deserves their brains splattered against the nearest wall. Their faces full of fear the last thing he sees before his finger laces the trigger and shoots. Why she complains, is beyond him, as each time he explains, she ignorantly accepts.

Taking a breath, she speaks again. "It's late. You should go."

So he does.

-

"I thought I'd never see you again." 

He comes across her in central park near the back gate. There's a bench where they seem to meet from time to time. Each day, he'd gone and perched a little away, just enough space with a good view. 

It took one day before she showed again. He waited six before he returned.

"It's not safe." He replies, sitting on the edge of the bench. "You shouldn't be here."

Ignoring him, "You're looking better." She says, an edge of hope in her voice. 

"Can't say the same for you, ma'am." He says, looking at her from the corner of his eye. She stares at him blankly, his eyes drifting to the stitches above her eyebrow. Her hand flies there instantly as she can feel his eyes on her.

"What can I say? A typical day in Hell's kitchen." Karen responds.

"Who hurt you?"

"Frank-"

"Who was it?" 

"I don't know." 

There's a silence between them. Karen leans back into the bench, sighing to herself as the sun reflects off the icy surface of the lake in front of them. It blinds his eyes a little, steam puffing from his mouth as he exhaled.

"I thought you were dead." She says finally.

He looks at her entirely. Her lips are chapped and her skin pale, a scarf wrapped neatly around her neck. The winter bites at her cheek, leaving them a little pink. 

"Death can't even keep up with me." 

-

"You came back."

The earth crumbles beneath them. He spots her across the street from the bulletin. Her blonde hair whips through the crowds, trying to make her way to the front, trying her best to miss falling pieces of every building. 

When she spots him, she almost leaps into his arms. 

Time almost stands still when she wraps herself around him, a lot tighter than he imagined. His arms hung low, Karen burying her head into the crook of his neck, her breath hot on his skin, sending tingles down his body. 

He raised his arms slowly, placing them around her. His body was unknown to the affection. Every inch of him he didn't know craved it was calling out, screaming in relief as his pounding heart relaxed a little. She was safe. She was in his arms. 

Closing his eyes, he knew there was a way to be good again. A way to love again, even in the tiniest of ways and strangest of places. In the midst of an earthquake where she'd seen him turn and run the opposite direction, not even hearing her call. 

He spoke softly but clearly. "Of course I did."

**Author's Note:**

>  **title:** song lyrics from ' _first date/last night_ ' from the original broadway musical _dogfight_
> 
> so i forgot i wrote this and only posted it to tumblr so y'all may have seen this before over there
> 
> find me elsewhere:
> 
>  **twitter:** vanlangs  
>  **tumblr:** bisexualieberman


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